Steam Heat
by anubislover
Summary: Sequel to "Cold Comfort." Jo's no longer in the Cage, but that doesn't mean she's rid of Lucifer, or the guilt of what she's done. Their relationship is unconventional, and a fight for dominance reveals things about both of them neither had expected. Warnings are inside.


Tada! The apparently much-anticipated sequel to "Cold Comfort." Thanks go to wickedchik500 for letting me know that my idea for this would be well-received by at least some of you, thus allowing me to release my inhibitions and write the hell out of this thing! I will warn you, though; there is plot-related lemon, slight mentions of torture and suicide, and language. Read at your own risk. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own neither _Supernatural_ nor A Perfect Circle's song "Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums." P.S. you might want to give that song a listen, since it kind of goes with this fic.

Steam Heat

It was almost midnight as Jo Harvelle stared out the window at the storm outside. She was dressed only in her pajamas, a small black tank top and matching shorts, and though the room was chilly, she hardly even noticed. She was used to the cold by this point. Well, at least used to cold rooms. The motel was far from five-star. Hell, it barely qualified as two-star with its pea-green walls, leaky faucet, hard mattress and water-stained ceiling, but it was better than being out in the storm that was raging just outside the window. She hated storms, but it was nothing compared to the other horrors she'd faced. She was strong.

"Are you planning to stare outside all night?"

She turned to face the speaker. Lucifer lounged like a sultan on the bed, making the lumpy mattress and tacky comforter seem almost luxurious. He hadn't been there a minute ago. It always amazed her how he managed to pop in without a moment's notice. She must have been really out of it, too, since she didn't even hear the tell-tale beating of wings.

"Not really tired tonight," she lied through her teeth.

Unfortunately he knew her too well by this point. "Those circles under your eyes say differently, Joanna. Nightmares keeping you up again?"

She glared and turned back to the leaky window, hating how perceptive he was. She watched as a bolt of lightning split the sky in the distance. "Yeah, but I'm fine. Now why don't you fly off to wherever it is you go when you're not bugging me?"

A snort of amusement reached her ears. "Someone's testy tonight. You act as if my presence is unwanted. If I didn't know better, I'd say you preferred your night terrors to my company."

"Wow, hit the nail right on the head, there. Guess you angels really are all-knowing," she snarked. Thunder rumbled quietly, as if applauding her comeback.

That actually earned her a genuine laugh. "Oh, Joanna, you precious, delightfully droll little thing. After all this time, after all I've done, don't you trust me?"

"No," she growled defiantly. She hated just how condescending he sounded, like she was some silly child that he needed to humor.

A long-suffering sigh echoed through the room. There was a clunk as his shoes fell to the floor, followed by the flutter of fabric as his long-sleeved t-shirt joined them. It sounded like he was getting himself comfortable. "Pity. And here I was hoping I'd be able to ease your suffering a little. But if you want another sleepless night…"

Nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms as lightning struck again. Damn. He always knew how to back her into a corner.

Since her time in the Cage, her nights, more often than not, were riddled with nightmares so realistic she sometimes forgot where she was, waking up a screaming, gibbering mess. After Lucifer brought her back to life she'd tried everything to stop them: pills, late-night TV, hunting until she was ready to drop, but nothing worked. It seemed Lucifer was the only one able to keep them at bay. It had been that way since Hell, and would likely be that way for the rest of her life.

It didn't mean she had to like it, though. "Please, you only care 'cause I'm your handy-dandy heating pad."

Theirs was a sort of symbiotic relationship; Lucifer kept away the nightmares, and he got to warm his cold and tainted grace with her soul. When it first began back in the Cage, he'd been able to keep his distance, basking in the heat while still respecting her personal space. Over time, however, he started needing to actually touch her, to the point where now they were pretty much cuddling every time he stopped by.

He absently picked at the blanket. "Maybe, or maybe I've come to enjoy your company and don't wish to see you distressed."

It was Jo's turn to snort in amusement. "Yeah, sure. It's not like you're the one causing my distress most days. Who was it that put me in the Cage in the first place?"

"Would you rather I let you get tortured by my demons?"

"Beats being the Devil's teddy bear."

Lightning flashed again, and it was so close she wasn't sure if it was natural or caused by Lucifer's irritation. "You've gotten mouthier since I brought you back. Whatever happened to the sweet, docile little soul that practically begged me to make her nightmares go away?"

"She got back to the real world and was finally able to find someone other than you for company. Amazing how healing being around your own kind can be, isn't it?" she said, looking over her shoulder with a cocky grin. That one she knew stung. She loved finally knowing exactly what buttons to push.

His blue eyes were piercing and thunder rumbled ominously. "Maybe I should put you back in the Cage. I think I'm beginning to miss my compliant little pet."

In a way, it was a fight for dominance. Years of isolation had made her docile in the Cage, but once she got back onto her home turf she'd started to turn back into her familiar self. It had happened slowly, but her time among the living had allowed her to occasionally forget the things she'd done. She didn't have the cold, empty nothingness to keep her in a state of despair and guilt anymore. She could eat, drink, hunt, dance, and do all sorts of other human things to keep her mind off her time in the Cage. And the knowledge that Lucifer still needed her erased most of her fear, making her more defiant and strong. Joanna Beth Harvelle was back. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

Sometimes, she wondered if Lucifer secretly preferred her this way. Despite the nightmares, her soul was no longer a fading light that he had to desperately rekindle for fear of losing his only source of heat. However, her reluctance to comply with him and continue her old role obviously irked him, though he was certainly good at hiding it. They may need each other, but Jo was still a Harvelle; she'd be damned if she was going to make it easy for him now that she was her old self again.

"Yeah? Then go ahead. I know you hated going back as much as I did staying there. You could punish me, but really, you'd just be punishing yourself."

He sat up on the bed, another flash of lightning illuminating the room enough for her to glimpse the mix of interest and irritation on his face. "I could always find another soul, one that remembers their place while you fester and fade in the darkness."

"Bullshit. If you seriously thought you could find a replacement you would've done it already. Face it, Luci; we're stuck with each other until I figure out a way to get a decent night's sleep. Then you're out like yesterday's trash."

Lucifer threw back his head and laughed so hard she could hear the mattress springs squeaking. His loud cackle almost drowned out the roar of thunder. "Oh? And how do you plan to do that? Let's see, you've tried pills, hunting, television, and alcohol, researched every sleep spell you could think of, and overexerted yourself to the point where you nearly ended up in the hospital. What's left? Suicide?" His grin took on a more twisted edge as he eagerly leaned forward. "Why don't you try that, Joanna? Is it because you're afraid you'll end up right back in the Cage, or that I'll bring you back? Like you said, we're stuck with each other." His eyes glinted with triumph. "Face it, Joanna; we're a match made in Heaven."

Jo turned away, taking deep, calming breaths. She was alive, and she was strong. She wasn't going to let him win, not this time. He'd been winning for centuries. "Then I'll just call Bobby—"

"Six months topside and you're only now thinking of Bobby? What took you so long?" The bed creaked as he swung his long legs over the side, placing bare feet on the dark red carpet. "Could it be because you know that he'd tell the Winchesters you're alive?"

Damn again. How did he always manage to figure these things out? "Why would that bug me?" she bluffed. "Sam and Dean'll be thrilled I'm back."

"I'm sure they will be." Jo felt, more than heard, him slowly stalk across the room, feet making only the faintest sound on the shag carpet. He reminded her of a tiger she had once seen at the zoo; beautiful and deceptively calm, but ready to strike the second his prey came into view. "I'll bet they'll be so happy to see you that they'll completely overlook the fact that you've been spooning with the Devil for the past—how long has it been? About two centuries in Hell, plus six months up here? Anyway, I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"Shut up!" She spun around, glaring up at him. If looks could kill, the Apocalypse wouldn't have ever been a problem. "I should call them anyway. Let 'em know you're here so they can send your ass right back to Hell."

Lucifer gave her a placid, almost adoring smile. "You should, but you won't, because you don't really want to see them. You know as well as I do that your boys stopped mourning you long ago. Sure, they certainly missed you for a while, but they got over that, just like everyone else they meet and inevitably cause the death of. They've moved on, and you're nothing more that a distant memory, another "what if?" in their cursed little lives. And if you did show up at their doorstep, what then? How do you make it up to Sammy for being too broken to do anything to help him while he was in the Cage with us? You know Dean would never forgive you if he found out. And he would. Your guilty conscience gives it all away."

She froze. He was right. No matter how hard she tried to forget it, no matter how strong she tried to act, the guilt was always there. She'd given into the Devil. She'd watched as he tortured Sam when the Winchester had managed to throw him back into the Cage. He'd screamed and begged, but she'd just sat in the corner, letting Lucifer do as he liked. Even if Sam had somehow forgotten, how could she face him again?

Long, cold fingers gently stroked up the bare skin of her arm. There wasn't a single scar or blemish. He'd removed them when he brought her back, seeing no reason for her to keep the physical reminders of her old life. Oh, she'd screamed bloody murder when she realized what he'd done, but it only served to amuse him further. He didn't get why she had such a problem with it. Was it so wrong that he didn't want his belongings to be anything less than perfect?

"But it's more than that," he continued. He lowered his lips to her ear, voice as soft as a lover's caress. "You _hate_ them. You hate them for failing to kill me all those years ago. You hate them for failing to avenge your death, for making yours and Ellen's sacrifice as pointless as non-alcoholic beer. You hate Dean for never returning your feelings and Sam for telling you the truth about your daddy's death. Every slight, every brush-off, every missed opportunity just makes your blood boil." He wrapped his arms around her in a parody of a hug, with all of the actions and none of the sentiment. "But most of all, you hate them because if it wasn't for them, you never would have been stuck in the Cage, left alone in the dark with only the Devil for company. If those boys had never walked into your life you never would have died, and when you did you'd have been safe in Heaven, beneath the notice of both me and my brothers." He brushed his nose against her golden hair, enjoying the scent of her rose shampoo. "The truth is, you hate them, Joanna, because those nightmares that torture you every night are entirely their fault. That's why you didn't help Sam. That's why you won't call them. And that's why you'll stay with me. Because no matter how strong you act, you're still the same, broken soul you were in the Cage, and it's all thanks to them."

Jo jerked back, horrified. How could someone so wrong always be right? Because deep down in the darkest part of her heart, she did blame Sam and Dean for everything. Her death, the nightmares, her time in the Cage and the resulting dependence on Lucifer, it all came back to them. She loved them both, but she couldn't stand the thought of picking up the phone and hearing either of their voices. She didn't know what she would do.

She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself tightly for protection, though from what she wasn't sure. She needed to be strong. "Shut up. You're just trying to mess with my head."

"Am I? Then by all means, pick up the phone and have your big, happy reunion."

The rain had started coming down harder, cold drops battering against the glass like they were trying to break into the room. "Get out. Get the fuck out of my room and screw with someone else, you psychotic, feathered dick!"

"Watch your tone."

"No, now get the fuck out!" Blue eyes began to fill with tears, though she was determined not to let them fall.

Lucifer frowned. If he wasn't careful he'd end up breaking her beyond repair. He hadn't been lying earlier; he had come to enjoy her company, just a little, for something other than the heat. She challenged him, made him fight for dominance instead of just bowing down and giving it to him. With her, it was always more fun to take than to receive. Desperate compliance had been nice in the Cage, but now, with so little in the world to keep him amused, he rather liked having her test him.

But, loath as he was to admit it, he needed her tonight. He'd left her alone for a week, and he desperately desired her warmth. It was an addiction stronger than heroin, one he wasn't too keen on breaking. As much as he had come to enjoy their banter and toying with her, he needed her soul bright and warm, not full of despair. It was already harder for her heat to seep through her living body and reach his Grace than it had been when she was dead, so he needed it to be hot with emotion and hope and rapture. And from the look of things, their little fight had screwed that up.

Suddenly, an idea started to take form. He'd toyed with humans enough in the past to know when their souls burned hottest. He'd noticed when he first tempted Lilith, and he was certain it would work with Joanna. The two were surprisingly similar in all the best ways. He had a plan, and he knew it wouldn't fail. She'd probably even enjoy it as much as he would. But first he had to get her into bed.

A cold hand wrapped around her shoulder, giving a gentle, almost comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry, Joanna. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He could hear the tightness in her throat and admired her determination to not let him witness her tears. He'd seen more than enough over the past few centuries. "Like hell you didn't. You may have fooled others with your stupid "I'm so tortured, I'm really the victim" act, but I know you're just a selfish, sadistic prick. I knew it back in the Cage, too, but I was just so desperate that I didn't give a damn. But now I want you to just get the hell out."

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his chest, ignoring her pointless struggles. Another flash of lighting lit up the night sky. "No. You need sleep, and I desire warmth. We're stuck together until the end of time, and I'm not letting you go over a little lover's spat."

Exhaustion caused her to cease her struggles. "We're not lovers," she mumbled dryly.

She couldn't tell if the rumbling that shook her small frame was thunder or Lucifer's chuckles. Probably both.

"You need rest, Joanna, and you know I'm the only one who can give you what you need. Now please, come to bed."

"No," she growled, defiance once again bubbling up inside her.

"I'll keep away all your nightmares," he whispered, unwrapping his arms and stroking her back soothingly, coaxing her to relax and comply with his wishes. What was the old saying about catching flies with honey?

"No," she murmured, but Lucifer could hear the hesitation in her voice clear as a bell.

Gently, he placed a finger under her chin, making her meet his eyes. "Come to bed, Jo, and I'll make you feel better that you've felt in years."

A sharp intake of breath, and he knew she'd caught the double-meaning, though he also knew she'd never consider it as such. Not from him, at least. He'd never lower himself to such a base, human act. _He must have meant something else,_ her mind reasoned. _He'll probably just sing to you again_. But still, the idea of pleasure in any form was a tempting offer. Too bad it was coming from the Devil. She had to be strong. "Thanks, but I'm good," she whispered, though this time it sounded more like she was convincing herself.

He knew she was breaking; she just needed that final push. Luckily, he still had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. Temptation was his forte, after all.

Softly, seductively, he started to sing.

"Don't fret, Precious, I'm here.

Step away from the window and go back to sleep."

She shivered, and she couldn't honestly say if it was from fear, disgust, or pleasure. That voice always seemed to place her under his spell, filling her head with the rhythm of the drums, drowning out her mind's objections. Despite herself, she allowed him to take her hand and lead her away from the window, each step slow and trance-like.

He continued to sing as he coaxed her towards the bed.

"Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils.

See, they don't give a fuck about you like I do."

The back of his knees bumped into the bed and he sat down, bringing her with him. He skillfully maneuvered Jo onto her side, pressing her back to his chest and crossing his arms over her torso. He liked this position the best, as it gave him premium access to her warmth and it was easier to forget he was indulging in a human when he didn't have to look directly at her face.

He sighed contentedly in her ear as heat immediately began to flow into him. It was hard to describe, though some days he likened the feeling to stepping into a steamy shower after coming in from a snowstorm. Other days it was like getting a hot stone massage; piercing and painful at first, but after a little while it became sweet relief. It seeped into his very being, giving respite to both his Grace and his vessel, easing the tension in the muscles and bringing the heat of the skin to a more comfortable level. Jo had once commented how, on a good night, after an hour of holding her his hands were almost room temperature. It felt so good he wanted to just lay like that forever.

Jo shifted uncomfortably against him and he smirked. He _could_ just lie there, but he'd made a promise, and it seemed a shame not to deliver. Besides, despite his aversion to humans, he was curious to see just how hot he could get her in every sense of the term.

Lucifer pulled her flush against him, molding her soft curves into his own tall, fairly muscular form. Gently, he nuzzled her neck, enjoying how the relatively innocent action made her stiffen. Though it was not uncommon for him to touch her, since the early days of their "relationship" it was typically very impersonal, like how one might hold an antique doll; delicately enough to not break it, but with no real sentiment behind the actions. This was definitely meant to make her feel, to entice a response from the blonde Hunter.

It worked, as a sudden burst of heat caused him to moan lowly in her ear, delighting in her breathy gasp and the way she jerked away in surprise. Arms reining her in, he stretched out fully against her, letting her feel every cool inch of his body and the lean muscles that rippled underneath cotton and denim. It was another subtle show of dominance, telling her without words "I'm bigger and stronger, so we play by my rules."

_Now this is more like it,_ the Devil thought. He loved showing just what sort of power he had over her; that while he enjoyed, and maybe even craved, her warmth, he was still the dominant one. He could make her need him far more than he needed her, and all it took was a little…persuasion.

A slow, seductive hand began stroking up and down her covered stomach, starting just below her breasts and stopping just past her hips, fingers occasionally dipping playfully under the waistband of her shorts. Jo found her breath coming a little bit quicker, air escaping her lips in little pants. The trance Lucifer's song had put her under was beginning to fade, but his actions were clouding her mind with a new sort of haze. Normally, it would take more than a few soft touches, especially from someone she hated, to get her to drop her defenses, but damn, it had been so long! When they'd gone topside she'd toyed with the idea of running out and getting laid, but every time she had the chance she rejected it, not wanting to risk Lucifer killing the guy during one of his visits just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even before she died it had been weeks since she'd been with a man, and adding on to the centuries spent in the Cage…well, could anyone really blame her for giving in, even a little bit? It had been too long since she'd been touched like this, and God she'd forgotten just how good it felt.

Finally Lucifer cupped her breast, eliciting an audible gasp from Jo. "Oh, is that something you like?" he teased, squeezing the mound of flesh.

She suppressed a moan, catching on to his game. This wasn't about sex; this was about power. He wanted to prove he was better than her, that he wore the pants in their "relationship." They may need each other, but that didn't mean he considered them equals. In the Cage she had accepted it; her will was too broken to complain, leaving her body and soul pliant to his manipulations. But she was out now, and there was no way she was going to just bend over and take it. But she knew when dealing with him, timing was everything, so for now she would play along and wait for her moment to strike. She just had to be strong.

The Hunter whimpered as he pinched her nipple, rolling the rosy bud between talented fingers. She unconsciously arched against him, lolling her head back against his shoulder. His cool lips danced along her long neck, sharp teeth lightly nipping at the sinuous tendons beneath smooth skin. His tongue ran from her shoulder to her ear before lips clapped around the lobe, sucking sharply.

"You humans never cease to amaze me," he whispered, hand switching to pay tribute to her other breast. "Torture, mind games, possession, there's always a chance you'll be able to resist. But pleasure? You're so susceptible to just a few simple touches."

Jo, despite the haze his attentions were causing, was not going to just take that lying down. Not figuratively, at least. "Don't act so high and mighty, Lucifer. You're not as unflappable as you think."

His amused chuckle made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Angels are above such base desires. One of the many perks of being a superior being."

Scowling at his arrogance, the Hunter suddenly had a crazy idea. Letting herself go a little, she ground her shapely rear back into his hips. Her soul burned with desire at what she felt beneath his jeans. Lucifer groaned in response, though whether it was due to the intense heat against his Grace or his vessel's instinctual reaction to her seductive motions even he wasn't quite sure.

Jo smirked in triumph as she felt his hips buck slightly. "Angels may be above them, but it feels like that changes when you throw a vessel into the mix."

Irritated at being even slightly on-upped, the Devil decided to raise the stakes. As his left hand continued to tweak and massage her chest, his right traveled teasingly light down her flat stomach, finally slipping past the loose waistband of her little shorts. Long fingers lazily but skillfully played with her covered slit, applying just enough pressure in all the right spots. He was pleased with the wanton moan that escaped her lips, but he wanted more.

Sharp, pearly white teeth sank into her shoulder as his fingers gave her clit a particularly delicious flick. Startled by the sudden burst of pleasure-pain, she let out a high-pitched cry, idle hands unconsciously reaching back and tangling in his short blonde hair.

He gave the abused skin a long, soothing lick, enjoying the tangy taste of her blood. He hadn't drawn much, but just enough to leave his mark. "I'd apologize, but you seemed to enjoy that. Such a twisted little thing, aren't you?"

She gave his hair a sharp tug in retaliation. "You're sick," she panted, desperately trying to keep her head.

"And you're wet," he murmured, stroking her damp panties. "But there's no shame in that, Joanna. I've had far longer than you to learn how to bend a body to my will."

Drawing a deep breath, Jo forced herself to focus, despite how tempted she was to just melt into the mattress. She quickly assessed the situation. She couldn't stop him (and, loath as she was to admit it, didn't want to), but she couldn't just let him take what he wanted. Like everything else in their screwed up relationship, this was a fight for dominance. He was right, though; she may know how to make a man pant like a dog in the heat, but the Fallen Angel had a hell of a lot more experience than she did. He held the advantage, and she couldn't just knock him off his pedestal. But, she realized, she could even the odds a bit, force him onto more equal ground. He wasn't completely immune to her body, and he was definitely vulnerable when it came to her soul. She finally had a plan of attack.

Tossing her inhibitions to the wind, she let her mind travel places it had never consciously dared. Her back arched as she began fantasizing about all the things the powerful archangel could do to her body. Rough, possessive hands exploring her every crevice. Being pinned to the bed, unable to move as he pleasured her with his seductive tongue. Feeling his hard length pound into her wet, willing core, all the while whispering what carnal things he could do to her until she came hard, screaming his name in intense pleasure.

Lucifer let out a surprised moan as a wave of intense heat crashed over him. He'd never felt her soul get so hot nor her emotions so intense. With a growl he flipped her onto her back, looming over her threateningly. Jo just smiled coyly in response, cheeks flushed with pleasure and eyes at half-mast as she seductively bit the tip of her finger.

"What's wrong, Lucifer? Too much for you?" she teased.

It hit him that the little human was playing his game and actually scoring points. He wasn't sure whether to be enraged or aroused by this development. Regardless, payback was certainly necessary. Smirking down at her, he separated her thighs and settled between them "My dear, precious Jo; we've barely begun."

With an aggression that surprised even him, he tightly tangled his fingers in her silky blonde locks and slanted his mouth over hers in a vicious, dominating kiss. Thin lips overpowered her plush, pouty ones, tongue and teeth manipulating her into letting him explore her moist cavern. She complied, but buried her fingers back into his hair and pulled him closer, determined to give back as good as she got. She groaned as her tongue danced with his, both caught in a tango with no clear lead.

His taste surprised her. Originally, she'd expected blood and ash and maybe sour wine, but instead he tasted distinctly like apples. Ripe, juicy, red ones that made you long to sink your teeth into the skin and let the sweet and slightly tart juices dance across your tongue. It was incredibly arousing: the taste of temptation and forbidden knowledge.

Faintly remembering a human's need for air, Lucifer reluctantly broke the kiss, staring down at the debauched woman with something akin to respect. "You cleaver little minx," he whispered, voice husky and carnal. "I know what you were thinking." His hands untangled themselves from her disheveled hair to travel down to her waist.

"You were thinking of all the things I could do to make you moan." Slowly, he slipped her tight little tank-top over her stomach.

"Make you whimper." His lips, now surprisingly warm, followed the path of her shirt, laying kisses over each bit of new skin that was revealed.

"Make you beg." As her chest was finally freed, he purposely neglected the soft mounds, deigning instead to leave a wet, teasing trail through the valley of her breasts. Jo whimpered and wriggled in frustration, but found she couldn't do anything as rough hands pulled the black garment over her head and wrapped it around her wrists, immobilizing her hands.

He smirked as she struggled, continuing his teasing journey until he reached her ear and whispered, "Make you scream," before plunging his tongue into the canal.

Jo gave a startled whine at the unusual but pleasurable sensation. "How did you know?" she panted.

Biting his lip to hold back a growl as another blast of heat seeped into his skin, he pulled away long enough to meet her eyes, his scorching gaze searing her flesh. "I didn't. You just told me," he said with a smirk. Before she could respond he latched his lips around one of her pert nipples, suckling like a newborn. He savored the kittenish mewls she made, so out of character for such a strong, stubborn woman. They were almost as satisfying as her heat.

He paused, ignoring Jo's cries of disappointment as a thought dawned on him. _I'm enjoying this far too much,_ he realized. He was enjoying her body's responses as much as her soul's. It was like they were stuck in some endless loop; he wanted her heat, so he pleasured her body. Her soul responds, giving him heat, making him want more, so he pleasures her more. Rinse and repeat. And his vessel was responding to her just as strongly, infecting him with mortal lust. He wanted to claim her body, feel the heat from the inside, hear her scream in pleasure as he branded her as his. Feeling her wriggle in distress beneath him, he reached his decision.

Pulling away from her chest, he slowly slipped her shorts and panties down her long, smooth legs, tossing them to the floor. Jo gasped as the cool air hit her wet core, but was relived she wouldn't be left hanging. As horrible as it was, as much as it went against everything she stood for as a Hunter, she wanted Lucifer. She wanted the only being in Creation that understood her to satisfy the desires she'd rejected since coming back. If she was going to feel guilty about her time with the Devil, she might as well make it worthwhile.

Sensing no reluctance or hesitation, Lucifer smiled at her adoringly as he removed his remaining shirt. She eyed him back hungrily, and he found his pride swelling. Even in his human vessel he was perfect. He quickly relieved himself of his jeans, sighing a bit as his member was released from its uncomfortable denim confinement. How did human men stand those things?

He positioned himself at her entrance. _Enough foreplay,_ he thought. She was hot and ready for him. Her skin had a faint sheen of sweat, making her almost glow beneath him. He'd wanted many things in his long existence, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than her writhing beneath him, desperate with pleasure, ready to scream his name while he basked in her heat. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, "This may hurt."

"I'm not exactly a virgin, you know," she said, rolling her eyes.

He gave a wry grin. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't bother, but he supposed she did deserve fair warning. "Actually, one of the drawbacks of bringing one back from perdition; you're completely healed. Every scar, every mark, everything."

She stared at him disbelievingly. "So you're saying I'm…?"

"Re-hymenated? Yes. So like I said, this may hurt."

Jo actually hesitated, eyeing him. She didn't know who his vessel was (she thought she heard Lucifer refer to him as "Nick" once), but he looked big. Bigger than the first guy she'd been with, at least. It would definitely hurt. And did she really want to give her sort-of virginity to a Fallen Angel?

Impatient with her indecision, he ground his hips against hers, sending pleasurable shockwaves through her. _Yes, yes I do_, she thought, grinding back desperately. It may hurt, but it would be worth it. Besides, she was a Hunter; she could take a little pain. She was strong. Screw her morals, screw the pain, she just wanted to screw _him_.

"Quit stalling and do it," she moaned.

Smirking, he did as she commanded, thrusting inside her with a snap of his hips. She gave a brief shout of pain as he tore her, but he barely registered it, overwhelmed by the sheer heat and tightness that surrounded him. The heat bled right into his Grace, more intense than anything he'd ever felt. Oh, _God_, this was exquisite. It was even better than when he had corrupted Lilith! If he had known just how amazing the little Hunter would feel he would have done this _ages_ ago. He paused a moment to savor it.

Thankfully, his pause gave Jo a moment to adjust. It had certainly hurt, but years of hunting had given her a high tolerance for pain. Now, it was beginning to feel as good as she remembered. She bucked her hips to get his attention, ready to get to the good part.

It worked, and his smirk increased ten-fold. "Now, now, Joanna. Let's not be hasty." He slowly pulled out and thrust back into her, beginning a steady, torturously unhurried pace. "Patience is a virtue, after all."

Each thrust was hot and hard, but she wanted to cry over how slowly he was going. Lucifer had no problem with it, though. He wanted to savor his victory over her, to relish the feel of her tight walls clutching his hard length as she desperately begged for more. Sadly, she seemed reluctant to beg.

Keeping his pace, he once again massaged her breasts, watching in amusement as she bit her lip to suppress another cry. "Oh, don't do that, precious. I want to hear all those pretty sounds escape your lips." His sharp teeth nipped her neck. He loved having such control over her. His voice was husky but composed as he whispered, "You're so hot and tight, I could do this forever. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll keep doing exactly this, and never let you find release. Every time you think you're almost there, I'll stop, leaving you teetering on the edge." He thrust a little harder, enjoying the way it added fuel to the bonfire that was her soul. "Or maybe I will let you cum, but only once you beg me. Would you do that, Joanna? Come on, let me hear you beg."

She groaned in pleasure and frustration. She could actually feel his sadistic grin against her throat. He thought he could make her beg, did he? Well, the Devil had another thing coming.

Finally wiggling her hands from his make-shift restraints, she grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. Using a move her mother showed her, but had probably never intended for this purpose, she flipped him onto his back. She gave a keening moan as the action caused him to sink deeper into her, and she was surprised when a similar noise escaped his throat.

His big hand gripped her hip dangerously, but she dug her nails into his chest. "Oh no. You wanna do this? Then we play by my rules," she whispered seductively. She bucked her hips, earning another moan. His hand remained anchored on her hip, but it no longer felt like he wanted to flip her back over. Instead, he guided her motions as she set a fast, passionate pace, apparently enjoying having the little human on top. She grinned smugly as she watched his face contort in pleasure. His Grace must have been burning up by that point. She gasped and moaned in response, getting hotter on both the feeling of him deep inside of her and the knowledge that she could reduce a powerful Archangel to such a state. She rolled her hips in a figure eight, relishing the gasp the action earned her. She was finally strong. _Look at me, Ma,_ she thought proudly. _I'm ridin' the Devil!_

Lucifer was surprised at how much he enjoyed her assertive side. Oh, yes, she was _definitely_ like Lilith. Adam's first wife never had liked just passively taking it, either. Still, he wasn't fond of being on the bottom, especially with a human. But her soul was hotter than ever, and his Grace hadn't been so amazingly warm since before his fall. So, for the first time, the Devil decided to compromise.

Shifting his hand to wrap around her waist, he sat up, keeping the Hunter firmly on his lap. He gazed deeply into her eyes and met her thrust for thrust, watching as the fire inside of her morphed into an inferno. She clutched him even tighter and actually bit his shoulder as he hit her g-spot. Enjoying this response, he repeated the motion, hitting it over and over again.

This was bliss. It was madness. He couldn't even tell who was in control anymore, but they moved in such symmetry that he doubted it even mattered. Tangling his hand in her hair, he pulled her closer, capturing her gasp in a hot, passionate kiss. He was close, and based on the little mewls he could hear trapped in her throat, so was she.

She pulled back with a gasp. Eyes were dark with lust. "Lucifer, please…"

He grinned triumphantly. "All you had to do was ask," he said huskily as he reached between them and ground his thumb against her clit.

Jo threw her head back, screaming his name in pleasure as her orgasm crashed over her in waves. Lucifer was caught off guard by the intense heat of her soul and the overwhelming pleasure of his own release, causing him to unconsciously call out, "Jo!"

All was quiet. The storm had passed without them even noticing, too caught up in their battle for dominance. Completely spent, the pair collapsed on the bed, bodies heavy and limbs still entangled. Jo was gasping for breath, and Lucifer was coming down off of the high of her emotions. He looked at her, and saw her in a completely new light. Debauched and satisfied, she was a wonder to behold. He'd compared her to Lilith, but now he felt he hadn't been giving the Hunter enough credit. She was something else, something almost beautiful. And for a brief moment, she hadn't been a mere human; she'd been his equal. His play for dominance had backfired, but he couldn't bring himself to be disappointed.

Jo, on the other hand, was both disgusted and pleased with herself. She'd fucked the Devil. She'd literally let him have wicked his way with her, and she'd responded in kind. Now the Winchesters would never take her back. How could she ever face them when she'd had sex with their greatest enemy? But it was also the most alive she'd felt in years. He'd given her pleasure beyond anything she'd ever felt, and she'd returned the favor. She'd sunk down to Lucifer's level, and yet she couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty.

Smiling, Lucifer pulled her close. "So, was it as good for you as it was for me?" he quipped. She frowned and tried to pull away, but he kept her in place. Soothingly he combed his fingers through her hair and peppered her sweaty throat with kisses. "Now, now, none of that. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Joanna. You've gone through so much, I think you deserved a little pleasure. Besides, who will know?"

She mulled over his words. He was right. Yes, she slept with a Fallen Angel, but who the hell cared? The other angels would probably kill her if they found out, but then again they'd kill her just for being friends with the Winchesters. Her mom and Ash were dead, and there was no way she was going to contact Bobby or the boys. No one that mattered would ever know. She smiled a bit, actually pleased with the idea of having such a naughty little secret. Well, maybe not so little, but on her list of sins, she wasn't exactly placing it at number one.

Lucifer mirrored her smile and laid a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. He then tucked her under his chin, relishing the warmth that was still seeping into him. Yes, they'd definitely be doing this again. The pleasure and heat was well worth consorting with a human. Though he doubted there was any other human like Jo. He was suddenly glad she'd stopped being the simpering little doll she'd been in the Cage. She was so much more fun when she was strong. He just had to keep her alive and happy, and most importantly away from those damn Winchesters. Knowing them, they'd break his favorite toy all over again. She was his, and only he was allowed to break her. Hearing her breath begin to even, he brushed her rose-scented and sweat-dampened hair away from her ear and resumed singing.

"I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons.

I'll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason.

I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices, son.

They're one in the same.

I must isolate you.

Isolate and save you from yourself."

Lucifer could hardly wait for tomorrow night. After all, he had several millennia of experience, and Jo certainly had a few tricks of her own he'd love to see. They may have been linked for the rest of eternity, but things had just become a little more enjoyable for the both of them.

End

Wow. That ended better than I expected. I hope everyone enjoyed that, because lemons are not my forte and that was way more than I expected. I was kind of worried about making Lucifer OOC, but with all the stories out there where he's banging just about everyone (mainly Sam, lol) I figure I can be forgiven, so long as I make it a major part of the plot. At least that's what the lemon was intended to be, not just straight-smut. Hope I kept Jo in character, too. I know she was pretty badly-off when I ended the last fic, so I was worried about how I wrote her for this. In my defense, I came up with the idea for this story before "Cold Comfort," so if you feel it doesn't line up, well, so sue me. I hope you all enjoyed, but the best way to let me know is in a review.


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